As the progress on organizing the Vault of Buncheness grinds on, I decided to tart up my fold-up futon in case osh-osh should happen in the foreseeable future. Along with my current focused state of mind comes a sense of good things looming on the horizon, and rather than subject some woman who's nice enough to share her time and body with me to my somewhat Spartan bachelor pad comforts, I'm erring on the side of the sensualist.
This is how my bed looked for the past couple of years. Basically a futon that folds up into a couch that was designed for the Frankenstein Monster's ergonomics (translation: the couch mode forces your spine into a position as rigid as an I-beam), it's comfy enough for me since I prefer a flat, firm matress. But with the inkling of femaleness permeating the ether, I went for soft, cushioned and comfy, with a hint of kitsch to keep it still kinda "Bunchely."
The first thing I did was run out and pick up new bedding, consigning the ageing covers to whatever homeless may wander by and adopt them. Keeping with the kitsch-yet-comfy motif, I snagged two animal print comforters (not visible in the photo), two yards of fake fur that looks like I skinned Rowlf the Muppet, and a fake fur throw that may be the softest, silkiest thing I've ever run my hands across. And all of that is thrown atop a huge, heavy comforter that feels as dense as lead when underneath it, but has a certain cushiony effect when lain upon. Seriously, the furry stuff feels terrific against skin, and I can't wait to roll about upon it, caveman-style, with the right willing Boadicea of the boudoir.
The atmosphere can be made a bit more "sacred" with a few well-chosen sticks of incensce; I'm a big fan of Frankincense and Myrrh, and sometimes those unknown flavors available in bulk at most Indian spice and sari establishments, but I suggest that you experiment to find what suits your space, both mentally and accomodation-wise.
And let us not forget a handy bottle built-for-two containing a kind "djinni" to make things truly transcendental. (Don't worry officer, it's a water pipe for tobacco...Yeah, that's it! Tobacco...)
Bottom line: make the lady comfy, and keep the place that way for yourself when she's not around. Such comfort can even make kicking back and enduring an episode of "The War At Home" palatable. Well...
Oh, and here's something decicated to the spirit of Hugh Hefner, and definitely for the ladies. Yeah, I'm friggin' hot...
(And there go the last vestiges of female heterosexuality, and here comes my new fan base of "bears.")